Something Better
by Star0307
Summary: What actually happened between Bulma and Vegeta during those three years? Rated for minor language and adult themes.
1. The Dress

I don't own Dragonball Z or any of its characters. I'm not making any money for this story. Man, disclaimers are boring. I'll come up with better ones later.

In the meantime, here's a story that takes place over the course of those three years that were omitted from the show. A lot can happen over three years…well, I hope you like it. Happy reading!

* * *

The metal door slammed shut and the Saiyan Prince slowly advanced to the control panel, where he typed a few digits into the keyboard. Stepping back, he waited for the machine to work. A gentle whirring noise started above him as the air pressure greatly increased. His small frame tensed, adjusting to the sudden change, and then he was off.

Jab, hook, side kick, energy punch, followed by his favorite combo: head-butt, knee, sliding kick, elbow. All of this within two seconds. He allowed himself a smirk. Yesterday, the combo was well above that. The prince started again, this time doubling his speed.

A good day in Vegeta's world.

Elsewhere, a certain blue-haired genius was in her room, drawing a bath. The water inched up the sides of the tub as she slipped out of her clothing. The scientist poured in some jasmine vanilla bubble bath, inhaling the calming scent as she eased into the water.

Idly scrubbing herself, she thought of her date tonight with her boyfriend. First, dinner at the new French restaurant, La Vie, and afterwards, dancing. Tonight would be the best night of her life. She sighed happily and slid deeper into the water.

A good day in Bulma's world.

Unfortunately, like all good things, they must come to an end.

Vegeta was still working on his combo when the whirring noise stopped. The unexpected weightlessness that followed soon after sent a clear message: the room was broken. He clenched his jaw and marched out of the room, determined to find the one person who could fix it. That particular person was still in the tub when he found her.

"WOMAN! The blasted gravity chamber is broken! Fix it NOW!"

It took a little while for Bulma to shake off the shock of her door being blown open and a practical stranger marching in through the debris. When she finally came through, she screamed.

"What do you think you're DOING?" Bulma roared as she tried to cover herself with the few remaining bubbles.

"I already told you. The room is broken! Fix it, before I get angry."

"Well, if you'll EXCUSE ME, I have a date tonight, so it will have to wait." Bulma stuck an arm out of the tub and rooted around for her towel as she spoke. Vegeta found it before her and grabbed it, holding the towel just out of her reach. Bulma immediately bristled. "Give that back," she said through clenched teeth.

Vegeta shook his head and clicked his tongue mockingly. "Not until you promise to fix the room."

"Not until you give me my towel."

"Then you'll fix it?"

Bulma growled before replying with a subdued 'yes'. He smirked and tossed it to her. She ripped the towel out of the air, glaring at him as he carefully made his way out of the room, making sure not to dirty his boots in the ashes of the wall. When she was sure Vegeta was gone, Bulma stepped out of the bath carefully and drained the water, muttering obscenities.

After she dried herself, Bulma surveyed the ungodly mess that used to be her bathroom wall. Her eyes came to rest on a dusty object lying on her bed. "My DRESS!" she shrieked. Lying right where she had put it, the once beautiful black gown now looked like it had been run over by a parade of cement trucks. "That arrogant, muscle-headed, dim-witted, conceited, porcupine-haired, diminutive little bastard! I'll KILL him for this!"

She threw on a random outfit, grabbed the dress, and stormed out the door.

'Alright,' she said to herself as she marched down the hallway, 'if I was a pompous dick-wad like Vegeta and my filthy, useless training room was broken, where would I be?' Bulma didn't even have to ponder the question. Instead, she headed straight for the kitchen and, sure enough, Vegeta was sitting at the kitchen table, arms crossed, waiting for Bulma's mom to finish making him breakfast.

"VEGETA, I'm gonna k—!"

"Oh, hi dear! I was just whipping up some pancakes for Vegeta! Would you like some?" Bulma's mom piled a few on his plate and placed it in front of him. She then placed a hand on his shoulder, which he instantly tensed at.

"No thanks." Bulma's mom smiled and left the room, a wise move. Bulma whirled to face Vegeta again and held up her gown. "Vegeta, I want you to LOOK at this and tell me what you see." Vegeta looked at the dress, which was slightly burnt, covered in dust, and had pieces of wood sticking out of it.

"I see an ugly dress." Vegeta smirked as Bulma clenched her jaw.

"No… this is the dress that Yamcha bought me as an early Christmas present."

"He bought you an ugly dress?" Vegeta's smirk widened as Bulma's eye started to twitch.

"No… it didn't look like this when he bought it."

"Then why did you ruin it?"

Bulma shouted, "I didn't! YOU did!" Teeth bared and eyes wild, she leapt across the table, sending the pancakes flying and tipping Vegeta's chair, bringing him down with her. Snarling and shouting rude words, Bulma miraculously managed to get him on his stomach. She straddled him and pinned him in the strongest and most painful way she knew how. "Say you're sorry NOW."

Although Bulma's sudden physical violence toward him both surprised and impressed Vegeta, he knew that she couldn't hold him down. He simply wiggled free of her grasp and stood up. Bulma yelped and wrapped her arms and legs around him to save herself from falling.

"A little scared to land on your ass, woman?" Vegeta sneered at her. Both angered and embarrassed by her display of inferiority, she clamped her jaw down on his shoulder as hard as she could until she felt his skin break.

Vegeta's reaction was immediate. He ripped her off his back, set her on a nearby chair harshly and looked her straight in the eye. "NEVER bite a Saiyan."

Bulma was caught off-guard by his directness, but wasn't satisfied yet. "What about my dress?" Vegeta rolled his eyes and started to leave.

"I don't care about your dress."

"Hmm. Then I guess you don't care about your training room, either."

Vegeta froze. "What did you say?" he spat without turning around.

"Well, now I have to go shopping for a dress, and knowing how long that takes, I'll probably be gone for a while." Vegeta turned slowly around to face her.

"How does that concern my training room?"

Bulma smiled sweetly. "It always takes me SO long to pick out a dress I like. I probably won't have time to fix your training room."

"Then shop faster."

"I can't do that ALONE," Bulma elaborated. Vegeta's eyes widened.

"NO!"

"No what?"

"I WON'T go shopping for a dress with you!"

* * *

Well, I hope they have a good time. E-mail me with comments!


	2. The Mall

The mall at Christmastime was always crowded, and that afternoon was no different. Nevertheless, Bulma walked into Bloomingdale's confidently, dragging a grumbling Vegeta behind her.

"Shut up!" Bulma quietly snapped at him. "You're embarrassing me. Besides, this is entirely your fault."

"MY fault? I believe it was YOUR bloody machine that broke down!"

"Well, who's been using that 'bloody machine'?" Vegeta chose to continue mumbling instead of answering the question. Suddenly, something caught Bulma's eye. "Ooh, look at THIS dress!" She dashed over to the nearest rack and picked up a simple black evening gown with a twist near the top. "It's Vera Wang!" Vegeta eyed it warily.

"I don't know… it looks ugly."

Bulma giggled. "I have to try it on to see how it really looks." Vegeta frowned even deeper.

"How long will THAT take?" Lucky for him, Bulma didn't hear that comment because she had found another black dress, this time with an asymmetrical neck line.

"Here Vegeta, hold these." Vegeta suddenly found himself carrying a pile of dresses. Satisfied, Bulma started to guide him to the fitting room but right before she entered, she paused. Vegeta did the same.

"What's wrong, woman?" he hissed. Instead of replying, Bulma motioned for him to follow quietly. Curiosity got the better of Vegeta, and soon they were both hiding behind a rack of dresses. He repeated his question.

"I think I saw Yamcha. I want to see what he's up to." Vegeta rolled his eyes while Bulma parted the dresses. She gasped and hurriedly pushed the fabric back together.

"What's wrong NOW?" Vegeta moaned. Bulma, now very pale, either didn't hear or didn't want to answer. She unsteadily rose to her feet, but soon was back in command.

"Come with me. I have an idea." Vegeta moaned again, but followed her with the plethora of dresses. Eventually, he found himself on tile; Bulma was crossing over into a different department. Vegeta looked at the sign above.

"Lin… linger…?" he tried to read as they pressed on.

"It's lingerie." She motioned for him to stop. Now Yamcha was in view, his back turned toward them, facing a blonde-haired girl in a tight yellow miniskirt and a blue tube top. She was rifling through some very showy bras and was holding one up every so often for Yamcha to see. Determinedly Bulma marched up right behind him.

"Oh what a PLEASANT surprise," she said loudly. Yamcha went rigid and slowly turned around to stare at Bulma. She glared up at him while the blonde tugged on his sleeve.

"Bulma," Yamcha said nervously, "what are you doing here?"

"Do you KNOW her?" the blonde asked, clearly confused.

"Of course he does. I'm his GIRLFRIEND." She then glanced at Yamcha before adding, "Or WAS."

"Aw, but Bulma, you don't understand, Stacy—uh, this girl works here. She was helping me pick out something for you."

"Oh, really?" Bulma snapped back. "Since when did Bloomingdale's employees wear spandex?" Yamcha opened his mouth to reply, but Stacy unintentionally cut in.

"Wait a minute," Stacy asked, "who's that?" She pointed at Vegeta, who had been lounging on a nylon rack, waiting for Bulma to finish. When he looked up, he found all eyes on him. Bulma smiled at Vegeta and winked.

"Since my BOYFRIEND seems to like dating SLUTS, I decided to get a new one. Yamcha, you know Vegeta." The look on Yamcha's face was almost comical.

"Bulma, how…how could you DO this to me?" Bulma laughed at his weak reasoning.

"I figured since you've cheated on me SO many times, I'd try it out for myself." She walked over to Vegeta and affectionately draped her arms around his neck. Before Vegeta could react, she whispered so only he could hear, "Play along, or else." Knowing that his training room depended on the outcome of this trip, Vegeta wrapped his arm around Bulma's waist and pulled her closer, smirking.

Yamcha turned red. "I thought we were going to La Vie tonight."

"I was going to call you about that, but I was just so busy…." Bulma left the sentence unfinished and grinned mischievously at Vegeta.

"La Vie?" Stacy piped up. "Baby, you told me WE were going tonight." She tugged on Yamcha's sleeve, but failed to get his attention. He was staring at his girlfriend, who was cuddling with the man that once killed him.

"But…," Yamcha started. Then he narrowed his eyes. "Impossible." Careful to hide any contrary emotions, Bulma pressed herself even closer to Vegeta.

"How so?"

"It doesn't sound right to me." Bulma's mind ferociously tried to think of a good explanation.

"Well, maybe you should get your hearing checked," Vegeta sneered. Bulma was surprised to hear him speak up. "I don't know why she even dated you in the first place." Yamcha turned to Bulma.

"So it's true?" Yamcha asked. "Then prove it."

This was the last thing that she expected him to say. It must have been panic that possessed her, because only a panicked person would do what Bulma did: without hesitation, she grabbed Vegeta's face and fervently pressed her lips to his.

When Bulma finally surfaced for air, Yamcha grabbed Stacy's hand. "We're leaving!" he called over his shoulder. Bulma didn't notice. She and Vegeta were both breathing hard, drained after the uncomfortable kiss. The outraged Saiyan suddenly stood up, letting the dresses drop to the floor.

"What the HELL was THAT for?" he whispered loudly, in case Bulma was in the arguing mood.

She was.

"Hey, I was just trying to play the part. You know, this wouldn't have happened if SOMEONE didn't BLOW UP my bathroom!" she whispered back, grabbing all the dresses lying on the floor.

"Do you mean to tell me that you STILL want to go on your date after he made a mockery out of you?" Bulma stiffened, stood up, and looked Vegeta right in the eye.

"I HATE being alone." Without another word, she walked away.


	3. The Date

Despite the episode at the mall, her ruined dress, and Bulma's hurt pride, she was still ready to leave at seven o'clock for her date, even if that meant wearing the dusty black dress. She was waiting patiently at the kitchen table, drumming her newly polished nails on the wood and staring anxiously at the front door.

Vegeta strode in; he's obviously just been training. He mopped the perspiration off of his forehead with his towel and draped it over his shoulder before reaching into the fridge to pull out a bottle of water. He drained it without even taking a breath, never taking his mystified eyes off of Bulma.

She didn't even notice that he was there. When he finally spoke to her, she jumped slightly.

"You know the bastard isn't coming."

Bulma shot him a fierce look before saying, "Of course he is."

"If you say so." Vegeta left her alone.

Thirty minutes passed. No Yamcha.

An hour. No Yamcha.

Two and a half hours.

No Yamcha.

Finally, Bulma gave in to tears. It was now nine thirty. She hadn't eaten dinner. She hadn't danced. She hadn't even moved.

She had just been alone.

Her parents had gone to bed. Vegeta was off training in that goddamn room. Her boyfriend was eating dinner with some smutty blonde. And she had spent the night in the kitchen.

Eventually, she dried her tears and buried her face in her arms, trying to comfort her shattered soul. How many times had she fallen asleep on the kitchen table waiting? She didn't know how long she had been sitting there when she heard a voice.

"I told you," Vegeta said matter-of-factly. She turned to face him. He was leaning on the countertop, like he had been there the entire time.

Whether it was the sight of a man, her lack of food and sleep, PMS, or some combination of the three, new tears fell from her eyes as she tumbled onto Vegeta. He had never seen her cry, and it shocked him to see her sobbing into his chest. Uneasiness dominated Vegeta's feelings at that moment, so he just patted her back softly.

"Why does it have to be like this?" she sobbed. "He was always so shy, sweet…but now he does this." Her watery blue eyes gazed up at Vegeta in silent anguish. "What have I done wrong?"

What could he say?

He pressed her head back to his chest and gently stroked her back. "Nothing." Her stuttering breaths shook her whole body, so he steadied her. After some time, she cried herself to sleep in the warm glow he had instinctively provided her.

Careful not to wake her, he cradled her in his arms like a child and carried her upstairs and down the hallway to her bedroom. Thankfully, the covers were already pulled back, so Vegeta placed her on the bed and pulled the covers up. Then, he deftly removed the pins that held up her hair. The aqua locks tumbled down about her face becomingly and the faint scent of flowers hung in the air.

Vegeta stared for a second, until he shook himself back to reality. He snorted at her softly and left the room, shutting the door behind him.

The closing door woke Bulma. She sat up in bed and looked around slowly, trying to figure out how she got in her bed. Only one answer came to mind.

'Vegeta….'


	4. The Symptoms

You are getting sleepy…very sleepy…. When I snap my fingers, you will wake up and think that I own Dragonball Z and all of its characters. snap

What? Oh, yeah, I guess I am brilliant for coming up with Dragonball Z…. Read on!

* * *

Bulma pushed her way into Vegeta's room, laundry basket clutched in her arms. Humming random Christmas songs, she emptied the hamper and started to pick up the various clothing items strewn across the floor. When a soft moan emitted from the unmade bed, she jumped.

"Vegeta?" She approached the bed with caution and pulled the covers back, revealing a shirtless Saiyan. "I didn't expect to see you here." He coughed.

"What are you doing in my room, woman?"

"I'm washing the dirty clothes. What are YOU doing in your room? It's eleven thirty."

"WHAT?" Vegeta said, sitting bolt upright in bed. He unintentionally shivered. "Why is it so cold?" he asked accusingly as he climbed back under the sheets. Bulma looked at him quizzically.

"Are you alright?" She examined his pale countenance and noted the beads of perspiration dripping down his chest and back. "You look terrible."

"Well, I feel fine." He coughed again. Bulma sat down beside him and felt his forehead with her hand.

"Just as I thought. You have a fever."

"You mean I'm sick?" She nodded. "Saiyans don't get sick. Especially the Prince of all Saiyans. Check again." Bulma hesitated, then, shyly but bravely, she pressed her lips to his forehead. It was the last thing he expected and Vegeta caught his breath in surprise. She pulled back with a grin.

"Yep. It's a fever."

"That's impossible!" He tried to say something else, probably about Saiyans again, but only coughs came out. Inwardly, Bulma felt a little sorry for him.

"Vegeta, just because you're from a 'superior race' doesn't mean you're immune to every disease we have on Earth," she consoled. "Besides, I'm positive it won't take long for you to heal."

All she received back was a glare and more coughs. "Fine," she replied, hurt. "When you want some medicine or something, I'll be downstairs." She picked up the basket and left him shivering on his bed.

She was making lunch when Vegeta stumbled down the stairs. He sat at the table, breathing heavily, a huge quilt wrapped around his shoulders. She frowned at his condition as she loaded a plate with sandwiches, chips and fruit, and set it before the Prince. "Now eat up," she scolded, "you need to get your strength back." She then began placing a modest portion of lunch on her plate when the doorbell rang. "Coming!" she yelled, setting her meal on the table as she hurried down the hallway.

Vegeta picked at his food longingly, clearing his throat every so often to ward off coughs. He wanted to eat, but he decided his chest ached enough from breathing. Vegeta frowned at the pain caused by this so-called 'fever'. It didn't look like it was going to be a fun day. His thoughts were confirmed when Bulma reentered the kitchen.

"Look who came to see you today!" Vegeta grudgingly looked up and saw Goku stride in.

"Hi Vegeta! I was wondering if you wanted to spar today. Mmm, Bulma, this food looks really good! Say, would you happen to have—"

Bulma didn't let him finish the sentence before replying, "Yes, I made enough for you, too." Goku immediately piled the remaining food on a plate and started shoving it in his face before he even reached the table.

Bulma sat down across from Vegeta and delicately began eating. "Vegeta, you've hardly touched your food." Goku stopped licking his plate and looked hopefully at Vegeta's.

"I'm not hungry," Vegeta said casually. Goku leaned in, ready to attack.

"Uh, Vegeta," Goku began, "can—"

"Fine."

Goku squealed and inhaled the food on the Prince's plate as well. Bulma frowned at Vegeta's apparent lack of appetite.

"Are you sure you're feeling alright?" she asked. He nodded at her stiffly.

"I just need some rest." He slowly got up and tried to walk normally to the living room, coughing along the way.

"Bulma," Goku asked after finishing Vegeta's plate, "is he going to train with me today?"

"No," she replied. "He's sick. I thought he had a fever, but it seems to be something more…. Goku, go watch him while I check something." Goku nodded soberly and rose while Bulma ran upstairs to check her computer. Logging on to the internet, Bulma typed the symptoms into a search engine.

"Let's see…loss of appetite, labored breathing, cough, chills, fatigue…." She gasped when the result popped up. She clicked on an article and skimmed it until she was interrupted.

"Bulma…," Goku called.

"What?"

"Something's…up…with Vegeta." The odd way the sentence floated up the stairs unsettled Bulma. She quickly turned off the computer and rushed into the living room, where Goku had the Prince pinned to the couch. Vegeta was muttering and struggling violently, trying to rise. Bulma knelt down next to him and put a steadying hand on his shoulder.

"What's wrong, Vegeta?" she asked gently. His eyes, fierce and unseeing, darted to her face.

"I have to stop him."

"Who?"

"Frieza," he spat with disgust, coughing afterward. "He's going to destroy them."

Bulma stroked his cheek, which calmed him slightly. "Frieza's dead," she whispered. "He can't hurt us anymore."

Vegeta's strength renewed. Goku was starting to sweat. "He's going to destroy my planet. I have to stop him. Have to help. Get off of Vegeta-sei."

"Nothing bad is going to happen to us," Bulma said a little more firmly.

His eyes finally focused on her face. "Get away from here." He then started muttering unintelligibly, probably in Saiyan, as his struggles weakened. Finally, Goku was able to let go.

"It'll be okay," Bulma murmured until he grew silent. Her eyes then darted to Goku. "We have to get him to a hospital. NOW."

* * *

Okay, I know what you're thinking: Saiyans don't get sick, right? Well, I just thought that it made more sense that they wouldn't get sick from the viruses and stuff on Vegeta-sei. Vegeta is on a foreign planet in close quarters with a bunch of other people because the house is close to the city, so he's bound to catch something.

E-mail me with comments and questions!


	5. The Hospital

Both Goku and Bulma rose at the sight of the approaching physician. "How is he?" Bulma asked. The doctor rifled through the forms that she filled out before responding.

"Well, Mrs. Briefs—"

"Miss Briefs." The doctor examined her worried face over his spectacles curiously.

"Of course. As I was saying, Vegeta has contracted pneumonia. The common kind," he added as he saw her face harden. "It's nothing to worry about. Streptococcus pneumoniae is easy to treat and noncontiguous. I've prescribed him some antibiotics." He handed her a bottle of syrupy, pink liquid. "He's already taken the first dose, so he won't need another one until six or seven o'clock. Also, the disease isn't serious enough to keep him here overnight. He'll be fine if you take him home."

"How long will it take for him to get better?" Bulma asked.

The doctor scratched his head with the eraser of the pencil he was carrying before he responded. "It seems that Vegeta is young and strong. This is just my opinion, but I think that he'll be better in seven to ten days." Bulma nodded and watched the doctor retreat into the hallway before turning to Goku.

"Come on. Let's get out of here."

Goku nodded in agreement. "This place gives me the creeps. This is where they give people needles." He shuddered at the mere thought.

The pair quietly walked down the glowing white hallways, preferring to look at the floor then at the passersby. Eventually, the pair came upon room 269. They knocked quietly and entered. Vegeta was lying on the bed in a hospital gown, his eyes half closed as if he was meditating. Bulma nudged him into wakefulness.

"Come on, Vegeta."

"I'm not sick," he coughed, struggling to sit up. Bulma chose to ignore his denial. Even though the Saiyan could barely stand, he refused all help. "Do I have to stay here?"

"No," Bulma replied, as if talking to a five-year-old. "The doctor said you could come home now." Vegeta nodded curtly.

"Where are my clothes?" Bulma motioned to a chair where his outfit was laying and Vegeta stumbled over to it. He pulled off the hospital gown before putting on his pants and shirt. When he finished, the Prince started to slowly exit the room, drawing his breaths in and out, slowly and painfully. Bulma blocked the doorway.

He cleared his throat before speaking. "Get out of the way, woman."

"Vegeta, what do you think you're doing?"

"I'm leaving."

"You are NOT walking out of here. You're not strong enough." He tried to push past her, but she managed to stand firm.

"MOVE!" He shoved against her as hard as he could, but she pushed back just has hard. As she fought with Vegeta, Bulma managed to glance at Goku, who shrugged as if to say 'just let him go'.

Bulma did. Vegeta roughly shoved her out of the way and glared at her before proudly marching down the hallway, even though the hospital bracelet around his wrist bore witness to his poor condition. Bulma and Goku followed a few yards behind, making sure he didn't disturb the other patients or workers.

It was a long way to the exit, and by the time they got to the car, Vegeta gratefully sat in the back seat. The drive home was uneventful. When they arrived back at Capsule Corp, Vegeta immediately collapsed on the couch, claiming he needed rest, and fell asleep. Bulma and Goku tiptoed into the kitchen.

"Thanks for helping me at the hospital, Goku. I don't think I could have managed him by myself."

Goku shrugged as he watched her clean up the plates from their lunch. "No problem. Chichi was in a bad mood today." When Bulma didn't laugh at his joke, Goku frowned at her. "Bulma?"

"Oh. Yeah." She had finished with the dishes and was drumming her fingers on the counter when she replied to Goku. She looked up to see him staring anxiously at her.

"What?"

"Are you okay?" Goku asked gently.

This knocked down any barriers that Bulma had left. She collapsed in to Goku's waiting arms, sobbing violently. As he patted her back tenderly, Goku said, "He scared you, didn't he." When she didn't reply, he said, "That's what I thought."

"And what did you think? You don't need to help me," she choked through her tears, pulling herself out of his embrace. "I can take care of myself." Despite Bulma's melancholy, Goku smiled at her.

"Now you sound like Vegeta," he said. The mere suggestion caught Bulma by surprise. She slightly turned away, pondering the idea that she and the Prince-of-all-Self-Absorption were similar. Eventually, she came up with a response.

"No way!" she said angrily, forgetting about the tears that she had just shed for Vegeta. "He's stubborn, conceited, demanding, and—" She trailed off, too heated to elaborate. Goku just laughed at her.

"Doesn't that sound familiar?" Sensing that the comment wouldn't be well-received, he started down the hallway as quickly as possible. When he reached the door though, he heard his name.

"Goku, wait," Bulma called. He stopped and faced his friend. Instead of looking mad, she looked upset. Her eyes wouldn't meet his. She finally murmured, "He'll be okay, right?"

Goku looked at her with pity. "He's Vegeta. I'm sure he'll be fine in a week or so." That being said, he left her alone.

Bulma dried her eyes and quietly walked back into the living room, where Vegeta was sprawled out on the couch, shivering even in his sleep. She found the quilt that he had on earlier that day and covered him gently, seating herself next to him to wipe the sweat off his forehead. He looked wonderful lying there, handsome, strong, not young yet not old, simply ageless, untouched by his lifetime of hardship. He had seen things, felt things that no one else had ever even dared to imagine, but, somehow, he carried on.

She brushed his cheek with her palm and began stroking his brow gently. It didn't seem real. She couldn't be here, helping the man that had threatened to kill her friends not once, but many times. He was a killer, cold, heartless, proud, handsome, strong….

Vegeta stirred in his sleep and slowly opened his eyes to find Bulma above him. He stared up at her and she stared down at him. They stayed like that for awhile, neither one of them daring to speak, to move, to breathe. Vegeta shivered after some time.

"Are you cold?" Bulma whispered. He nodded numbly; he was still wondering if he had woken up or not. She pushed him gently over and rested her head on his shoulder, pressing her body against his to warm him. He pulled her close with his free arm.

"Thank you," he whispered hesitantly into her ear.

* * *

Ah! So what if he's way out of character, that's just plain cute! 


	6. The Delusion

Now, I know this chapter is shorter than normal, but the next chapter is much longer than normal. I'm still editing it, but it'll be posted by the end of the week. Hopefully. Anyway, I had a lot of fun in this chapter with Bulma's mom. Enjoy!

* * *

Bulma's eyes flew open. Instead of dwelling on the fact that she wasn't in her room, she stumbled from a chair over to Vegeta's bedside as her eyes slowly adjusted to the darkness. His face was damp as he thrashed about, muttering something incomprehensible.

'Not again,' she thought to herself as she knelt down over him. 'I didn't realize that his past was this haunting.' "Shh…I'm here now. What's wrong?" she said as she gently massaged his temple. His empty eyes stared straight ahead at the wall, desperately searching for something.

"Where are they?" he whispered.

"Who?"

"Everyone. Nothing's left. It's all gone…."

"It's okay—"

"No!" Vegeta sat up quickly. "They're dead. It's my fault. I wasn't here…I wasn't here…." He groaned and fell back onto his bed, still muttering the phrase over and over.

"It's not your fault. You just would've died too."

He turned to look at her, self-disgust evident in his eyes. "I would have died with honor. But now…." he started to speak in another language and shook his head angrily, frantically. There was nothing for Bulma to do except wait, so she did, rubbing his cheek to keep him calm. He eventually started to sleep again.

Bulma was about to go back to her own bed when one tear rolled from his eye onto her hand. Shocked, she examined it. She was so absorbed in this tear, she didn't notice Vegeta's movement until it was too late. He wrapped his hand around her wrist, preventing her from leaving.

Bulma blushed in the darkness as she tried to pull away. 'I can't believe this is happening!' Finally, for lack of escape methods and want of sleep, she unwillingly climbed into his bed, attempting to stay as far away as possible from the Prince.

She was denied that right, too. Vegeta slipped an arm under her waist and pulled her closer, kissing the curve of her neck softly before settling back down, resting his head on hers.

Bulma felt the spot where he kissed her, surprised by his sudden tenderness. 'And to think he's doing this in his sleep,' Bulma thought bitterly as she tried to make herself comfortable. Amazingly, it was a very easy thing to do. 'At least he isn't contagious,' she told herself, yawning. She quickly fell asleep in his arms.

A loud noise awoke her in the morning.

"Huh?" she yawned as she stretched her arms and arched her back. When Bulma finally opened her eyes, she was staring into black ones. "Yipe!" She jumped backwards, further onto the bed. Vegeta was bending over her with a quilt wrapped around his shoulders, looking pissed.

"What are you doing, woman?"

"What does it look like I'm doing? I'm STRETCHING!"

"I can see that!" He turned his head away to cough before continuing, "I meant 'what are you doing in my bed?'."

"YOU'RE the one who wouldn't let me go last night."

Vegeta cocked an eyebrow. "I have no recollection of any such thing."

"You were sleeping when it happened."

He frowned again, straightening his body before asking her suspiciously, "When what happened?"

Bulma paused, her mind racing over the possible answers: the delirious rant, the single tear, the kiss on her neck…. "Nothing," she lied.

Even though he was wearing his trademark frown, a look of relief swept over Vegeta's face. Bulma stretched again before climbing out of his bed.

"Now you need your rest," she told him, "so get back in there." He narrowed his eyes and said a few choice words before lying back down, watching her leave the room. 'Crazy bitch,' he thought to himself, but the scent that hung on his pillow made him think otherwise…. He threw it off the bed in frustration. 'What's wrong with me?'

Bulma was wandering towards her room when she ran into her mother, who was carrying a tray loaded with Vegeta's breakfast.

"Hi, dear!" she said cheerfully. "Did you fall asleep in Vegeta's room again?" Bulma nodded slowly. "Oh, that's nice. I'm so glad you're taking care of him." For some odd reason, Bulma's mom smiled wickedly after she said that. "You know, if I wasn't married, I would be helping a lot more, too."

Bulma looked at her mother strangely. "What do you mean?"

"You didn't notice?" Bulma's mom laughed delightedly. "Vegeta's just SO sexy and handsome. And have you checked out his ass?"

"Mother!"

"What? I'm only telling the truth."

"Those aren't the things I like to think about this early in the morning."

'Mom' gave her a mischievous grin. "SURE they aren't. Just do me a favor. The next time he walks by, get a GOOD look at his derriere. Someone should really change that 'Bad Ass' shirt to 'Cute Ass'." Bulma blushed and glared at her mother, but Mrs. Briefs only giggled in response before walking merrily down the hallway.

'Ug!' Bulma thought as she entered her room. 'I can't BELIEVE that Mom tells me these things. It's a good thing she didn't go into Vegeta's room earlier. I wonder what she would've thought if she caught me in his BED!'

* * *

Okay, I just wanted to know, what IS Mrs. Briefs' name? I've never seen it! I've only heard her referred to as 'Mom' or 'Bulma's mom'. Please help me out! 


	7. The Present

First of all, I just figured out how to check the statistics of my stories, and this one is rockin'! Thank you so much for your support! It's gotten a ton of hits, and I couldn't have done it without you!

Sadly, I don't own Dragonball Z yet. I'll ask Santa for it.

As each day passed, Vegeta grew stronger and stronger, until about five days later, when he was finally allowed out of his room. Bulma's mom cooked a celebratory breakfast especially for him, which consisted of eggs, French toast, sausage, bacon, pancakes, hash browns, toast, and fruit salad. He ate like he hadn't seen food for a week.

"Vegeta, dear, leave some for Bulma!" Bunny cracked a few more eggs into the frying pan.

"Where is…Bulma…anyway?" asked Vegeta, carefully replacing 'the woman' with her name instead.

"Oh, she's probably in her lab wrapping some Christmas presents." Bulma's mom winked at Vegeta, who looked at her quizzically.

"'Christmas'?"

"I know! The holidays really sneak up on you, don't they?" With a flirtatious laugh, she dumped the newly cooked eggs onto a plate. "I'm just going to give these to my husband. I'll be right back!" She winked at him again before disappearing down a hallway, singing to herself.

Vegeta rolled his eyes before finishing his breakfast. Even so, he was left wondering about this holiday…but who could he ask? As if on cue, Vegeta felt a sudden presence.

"Kakarott." He turned to see Goku arriving via 'instant transmission'.

"Hiya, Vegeta! Want to train?" Without a second thought, Vegeta accepted the challenge and the two headed for the gravity room. "Now, because you're sick, I'll take it easy on you," Goku said as he began to warm up. Vegeta glared at him before punching a few digits into the computer.

"I'm not sick, so don't hold back." The younger Saiyan only smirked in reply.

After the gravity changed, the battle began. Vegeta flew at Goku, attempting to strike him with an elbow to the ribcage. Easily blocked and countered by Goku with a knee to the stomach. Vegeta used the propulsion to flip over Goku's head and knock him down with a kick. It was then that Vegeta decided to take advantage of this opportunity and ask Goku about the strange holiday.

"Kakarott, what's all this fuss about 'Christmas'?" As soon as the elder Saiyan said the word 'Christmas', Goku stopped and grinned, earning himself a blow to the stomach. He grimaced before responding with a right hook and saying, "Christmas is great! Everybody gets presents and stuff! I asked for food, and a pony, and a bike, and…uh…food…." He trailed off as the battle got more intense.

"When do you get presents? And who do you ask?"

"You get the presents on Christmas morning, December twenty-fifth. And I write a letter to Santa every year asking for what I want. I also tell Chichi about some other stuff."

Uppercut, jab, knee. "Who's 'Santa'?"

Forearm block, crossover, roundhouse. "Santa's my hero! He brings me all kinds of things! Every Christmas Eve, he comes down the chimney and puts all the stuff you asked for under the Christmas tree. That way, when you wake up, you get to open presents!"

Vegeta blocked a few attacks so he could cough. "And your mate gets you presents, too?"

Goku nodded vigorously as he dodged a body slam. "Chichi will buy me whatever Santa can't bring. She gives me those presents on Christmas morning, too. Of course, I have to…," he trailed off and powered down. Curious, Vegeta did the same.

"You have to what?"

"I have to buy her presents, too," Goku said lowly. Before Vegeta could ask another question, the door flew open, which immediately turned off the false gravitational pull. As Vegeta and Goku exchanged quizzical glances, Bulma strode in and placed her hands on her hips.

"What do you think you're doing, Mister Pneumonia?"

"That's none of your business, woman!" Vegeta spat back. Goku watched the two exchange glares that would have killed an ordinary man.

"Hi, Bulma," Goku started, but both of the death glares switched to him. He gulped, shouted a quick, "Bye, Bulma!" and 'instant transmissioned' back home. The two returned to their standoff, waiting for the other to crumble first.

Vegeta finally gave into a cough, and Bulma jumped at the opportunity to lecture him. "What do you think you're DOING? You're still sick, your lungs are infected with all different kinds of bacteria that are eating away at your innards and you have the NERVE to march in here with your stupid-ass and TRAIN? Don't you know the difference between resting and FIGHTING?"

She paused for a response, but Vegeta didn't give her the pleasure. He just pushed past her on his way out. "Hey! Come BACK here, jackass! I'm not through with you!" Bulma watched him stride down the hallway. He started to cough again, and his breathing became ragged. Suddenly he was on his knees. "Vegeta?" Bulma walked at first, but her steps quickened, and soon she was running to him. "Vegeta, what's the matter?"

She grabbed his arm but he jerked it away. "I'm fine, woman. Go away."

"No your not. Let me help you!"

"Haven't you already done enough?"

"No!" Finally, reluctantly, the Prince gave in. Bulma hoisted him up with the aid of the wall and was half supporting, half carrying him down the hallway. "Why don't you listen to me? I'm just trying to help you get better."

"I don't care if I 'get better'. I feel fine. Let me go back and train some more."

"If you do, I'll just override the system so you can't train ever again. Would you like that?" He glared at her for a second, but didn't respond. They walked down the rest of the hallway in silence, finally arriving at Vegeta's bedroom door.

"I can take it from here, woman."

She scowled at him. "Can't you call anyone by their real name? It's not hard, you know." Exasperated, he turned and looked her straight in the eyes.

"Fine, BULMA." For some reason, she flushed when he said that. He quirked an eyebrow at her, confused, and she regained her composure.

"There, that wasn't so bad, was it? Now go rest." With one final push, she managed to get the Prince into his room and close the door before storming down the hallway, her thoughts dwelling on Vegeta. 'Man, that guy is IMPOSSIBLE! He—'

Bulma suddenly stopped. 'Where the hell am I going?' she asked herself, frustrated. She had been walking in the opposite direction of her destination. She rerouted to get to her lab but ran into her mother in front of Vegeta's room.

While Bulma was getting lost in her own house, the Saiyan Prince was doing some 'deep' thinking of his own. 'Stupid wench, thinks she owns me or something….' He changed out of his sweaty clothes, still grumbling to himself.

Vegeta was about to leave the room when he heard some talking outside. The walls were so thick, the words sounded more like whispers than voices, but the Saiyan could understand them as if they were talking to him. He shrugged, about to leave through the patio door, when he heard his name. Now interested, Vegeta began to listen.

"…for Christmas." It was the voice of Bulma's mom. "What did you get him?"

"I didn't get him anything. I was making him something." Bulma's voice.

"Oh, how lovely! What did you have in mind?"

"Well, you know how he trains all of the time? His clothes rip CONSTANTLY, so I…." Bulma's voice got so soft, even Vegeta's ears couldn't pick up what she was saying.

'Damn that woman,' he thought to himself, straining to hear while he leaned forward. Suddenly—

"VEGETA! It's rude to EAVESDROP!" The door flew open and Vegeta rolled out into the middle of the hallway. "Didn't your parents teach you some MANNERS?" Bunny wasn't fazed by Bulma's outburst and the Saiyan lying prone on her floor.

"Well Bulma, I see you're busy, so I'll go start lunch." She hummed as she walked down the hallway. Bulma was too angry to hear her mother.

"Haven't you learned ANYTHING, Vegeta? Humans don't like when people listen in on their conversations. I don't care if you're royalty…." The speech that Bulma gave Vegeta fell on deaf ears. He had only one thing on his mind:

'The wench is making me a present?'

Ooh…I wonder what she's getting him! And what's Vegeta gonna do about it? Well, you'll have to wait and see!


	8. The Apology

Yes, this was supposed to be posted on Wednesday, but I finished much earlier than I anticipated. I was gonna edit it more, but the pressure was too much for poor little old me. A special thanks to TrunksGurl09 for pulling me out of writer's block. This chapter's for you, girl, short and sweet!

There was a knock at the door. He ignored it; he was still eating. Who would come when it was pouring outside, anyway? And besides, someone else would get it. No one did, though, and the knocking persisted. Finally, he had heard enough.

"I'll get the blasted door!" he shouted to no one in particular, storming to the entrance. He threw it open. "What do YOU—" Vegeta was caught off-guard by what he saw.

Yamcha was standing out in the rain with a bouquet of hydrangeas in his right hand and an umbrella in his left. He had tried to dress up, but the weather had interfered. His usually wild hair was incredibly frizzy and his pants and the bottom of his jacket were splattered with mud.

"Bulma, I'm—oh. It's you." Yamcha let his arms drop to his side as Vegeta smirked at him. "Well…can you GET her for me or something?"

Vegeta's smirk changed into a scowl. "No. Get her yourself." He retreated into the hallway, watching the human suspiciously as he entered the house. Yamcha shook his semi-wet hair like a dog.

"Bulma!" he called up the stairs, ignoring the scrutiny he was under. There was an exclamation of surprise, the sound of running feet, and Bulma flew down the stairs into his arms.

"Yamcha!" she squealed. "Oh, I've missed you so—did you bring me flowers?" She stepped back as Yamcha handed her the hydrangeas.

"Bulma, I'm sorry," he said softly, trying to look as pathetic as possible, which was pretty pathetic. She only smiled and kissed him. Sickened, Vegeta snorted and looked away. The sound brought Yamcha's eyes to him.

"So…you weren't dating Vegeta, right?" he asked Bulma slowly. She glanced at Vegeta before shaking her head.

"Of course not," she giggled. For some unexplainable reason, Vegeta felt stung.

"Woman, is dinner ready yet?" he asked icily.

She looked at him, confused. "Vegeta, you were just eating dinner."

"There's not enough. Make me more," he demanded, walking back to the living room. Bulma watched him with wary eyes, wondering why he was suddenly acting so strange.

Yamcha noticed the look on Bulma's face. "Just forget him. He's a bastard," he whispered to her. Was it just her imagination, or did Vegeta's shoulders sag ever so slightly at Yamcha's comment?

"No, he's just…lonely, I guess." She shook her thoughts away and smiled back up at Yamcha. "Good thing I'm not anymore."

Yamcha grinned back, then said suddenly, "Look, Bulma, where's the dress that I bought for you?"

"Upstairs. Why?"

"Because I made us reservations at La Vie tonight." Bulma shrieked and jumped up and down with excitement, resembling a teenager.

"Ooh! I'll go get changed!" She pecked his cheek and ran to her room, leaving Yamcha with the flowers.

Bulma quickly pulled the dress out of the closet and looked at it glumly before she threw it on the bed. 'Well, I TRIED to fix it,' she said to herself, undressing. 'At least it still looks presentable.' She pulled the gown over her head, pinned her hair up nicely and applied a little make-up. "There," she said as she grinned at herself in the mirror.

She skipped down the steps. 'At last,' she thought to herself, 'I get to have my perfect date with Yamcha.' She found him in the kitchen, putting the hydrangeas in a vase filled with water while ignoring the piercing gaze Vegeta was giving him.

"Ready?" he asked her. She nodded excitedly. "Okay, then let's go!" He extended his arm to her and she took it before they marched towards the door.

"Don't forget to take your medicine, Vegeta!" she called over her shoulder. "And don't wait up for me!" She winked at him before Yamcha and her exited.

Of course, he didn't listen.

If you didn't like how short it was, I'm sorry! You have to admit that it's got a lot of information to mull over, though. For instance, do you know what hydrangeas symbolize? Huh? HUH? That's right. Why don't you go look it up? I'm sure you'll be intrigued at the results…if you're too lazy to look it up, though, just e-mail me.


	9. The Offer

Okay, you guys are too kind! This chapter is something that isn't brought up very often, so we'll see how it goes over. Enjoy!

* * *

He heard the door slam and a sigh. A happy sigh. Vegeta approached the woman leaning on the doorframe, his medicine in his hand.

"Woman, how much of this am I supposed to take?" He held out the bottle for her to see, but Bulma didn't hear him. Vegeta looked at her closely. Her eyes were lustrous in the dim moonlight, appearing to be vast blue oceans of adoration and happiness. This was unsettling. "Bulma?"

Her eyes quickly snapped to his face, but not in anger. "Oh, Vegeta," she gushed, "you'll never guess what just happened!" She giggled as if she had a little too much to drink.

"What's wrong with you?" She looked as if she would explode if she didn't say something soon.

"I'm engaged!" she cried as she held out her left hand, which bore a gold band with a solitary diamond set in the middle.

"You're what?" he asked, annoyed at her puzzling behavior.

His face made Bulma laugh even more. "You don't know what an engagement is, do you?"

"Should I care?" he asked disinterestedly. She nodded eagerly.

"Definitely. When two people get engaged, it means they're going to be married." Vegeta seemed to recognize the word 'marriage', but still looked perplexed. Bulma sighed and gave the definition to him as if he were a five-year-old. "Marriage is when two people who love each other very, very much promise to share their lives together forever."

The situation soon became clear to him. "You're engaged to be married," he stated.

"Yes." She smiled up at him warmly. "Isn't that great?"

Vegeta just scowled. 'What's wrong with me? I don't care what this pathetic wench does with her life.' Despite all of his efforts to stop them, envious thoughts filled his mind, yet he remained impassive as she gazed at him eagerly.

"Great," he gruffly congratulated her as he started to leave.

"Wait." Bulma caught his arm. "You can't tell anyone about it. Yamcha decided that we should tell everyone at the Christmas Eve party next week."

"'Yamcha decided'?" Vegeta asked mockingly. "Since when do you listen to anyone but yourself?"

Bulma decided to ignore his ridicule. "Please promise you won't tell. Please." The same anguish he had seen in her eyes when Yamcha stood her up was now back, but it was somehow different. Was there such thing as good pain? Is that why she stayed with the earthling bastard for so long? Again, Vegeta found himself beating down his emotions.

"Fine, woman. Just tell me how much of this I have to take." He again held up the bottle of medicine in it. She giggled when she saw the dregs of pink liquid left in the bottle.

"It looks like you don't have to take any more. Here, I'll throw it away." She took the bottle from him and started up the stairs.

"Wait!"

Bulma paused and turned to face the Saiyan. "What?" she asked him quietly.

Vegeta didn't know what to say. He hadn't actually wanted to say anything to her. "Good night," he managed to grumble lamely.

A knowing smile crept onto Bulma's lips. "Night," she whispered back.

Vegeta was eating breakfast the next morning when Bulma came down, humming to herself. "Hi, Vegeta!" He merely grunted back, preoccupied with his meal. "Hungry today?" This time, she didn't get an answer. "Come on, just because I'm engaged doesn't mean you can't talk to me." This made Vegeta snap.

"Why would I WANT to talk to you, anyway? You're just some whorish wench from earth. You're nothing compared to me."

His words felt like lead, weighing down Bulma's high spirits. "I…I thought we were friends."

"The Prince of Saiyans does not become friends with ANYONE, especially a lowly earthling." He finished his breakfast and rose. "I'm off to train. Leave me alone." After that, he just left.

He left her alone.

Bulma rubbed her eyes fiercely, willing away the tears that fell freely down her cheeks. 'Why is he doing this to me? I need to get under control.' She breathed in and out a couple of times, then smiled as she dried her eyes. 'I'm getting married to Yamcha soon. I'm finally getting what I've always wanted!'

Delusions only work for so long, though. The tears renewed themselves as she fell into a chair. 'Why is this happening to me? It's not supposed to be like this!'

Elsewhere, the Saiyan Prince was preoccupied with his physical condition. 'Bah, I've gotten soft. It's only been a week and a half! How could I let my emotions go like this?' His punches grew more rapid along with his thoughts. 'It's all that infernal woman's fault. That stupid bitch….'

His verbal abuse of Bulma didn't brighten his spirits. In fact, he was ripping himself apart inside. He finally screamed, letting his feelings tear through his body.

This was the first time he transformed.

It was only for a moment.

Vital fluids coursed through his veins like knives, cutting off any restraints holding down his soul. A rush of blood to his head enhanced his feelings and senses further, allowing him to unlock the chains holding down his heart.

It's odd how he had to enhance his feelings to see something so strong, so obvious as love. But it was only for a moment.

He promptly forgot about emotions, feelings, love. The rush subsided, leaving him just as cold, just as angry, just as confused.

'What the hell is happening to me?'

* * *

I know, I know, an abrupt ending, right? Well, he did transform. What more could you ask for? Besides Trunks' conception, I mean.

Questions? Comments? Stories I can take credit for? E-mail me!


	10. The Kiss

No, I didn't come up with them. Just leave me alone! sob

And now, the moment you've all been waiting for…the kiss! (Insane giggling one would only expect from an incredibly hormonal teenage girl.)

Okay, enough of that. On with the show! Er, story.

* * *

The blinking light and soft ring warned Vegeta of the incoming call. He finished up his combination and turned to look toward the screen. A shrill voice came out before he saw Bulma's face appear.

"Get your royal ass out of there and get dressed for the Christmas Eve party. You've got thirty minutes."

"Why should I?" He asked as he started his combination again. "Christmas Eve isn't for another week."

"We're just celebrating early, so hurry up."

"And what if I'm not going to the party?" he said smugly.

"Then I don't know what'll happen the next time your little room breaks," she replied just as smugly before turning off the monitor. His smirk faded into a frown and he turned off the transmission. Grudgingly, he finished up his combination and turned off the gravitational pull.

He was on his way out when he smelled something. He inhaled deeply, trying to figure out what it was. The aroma was so powerful, he almost sneezed.

'What is that?'

As he walked down the hallway, the scent only got stronger and stronger. Oddly enough, Vegeta didn't mind. It was invigorating, exotic and…exciting? Hmm. He paused where the scent was the most concentrated and glanced to his left before continuing. There was only a closed door there. But it was Bulma's bedroom door.

'So, it IS that woman. She has to be in heat, but the scent that she's giving off is intoxicating. It's so strong, a HUMAN could smell it.'

Vegeta entered his bedroom, stripping off his sweaty clothes before climbing into the shower. His thoughts had advanced further on the subject of the woman. 'Why is she forcing me to go to this hellish party, anyway? No one will notice if I'm there or not.' As he washed, his fingers ran over a round scab on his right shoulder. He stared at it for a minute, trying to recollect where it had come from. Then it hit him.

_Teeth bared and eyes wild, she leapt across the table, sending the pancakes flying and tipping Vegeta's chair, bringing him down with her. Snarling and shouting rude words, Bulma miraculously managed to get him on his stomach. She straddled him and pinned him in the strongest and most painful way she knew how. "Say you're sorry NOW."_

_Although Bulma's sudden physical violence toward him both surprised and impressed Vegeta, he knew that she couldn't hold him down. He simply wiggled free of her grasp and stood up. Bulma yelped and wrapped her arms and legs around him to save herself from falling._

"_A little scared to land on your ass, woman?" Vegeta sneered at her. Both angered and embarrassed by her display of inferiority, she clamped her jaw down on his shoulder as hard as she could until she felt his skin break._

_Vegeta's reaction was immediate. He ripped her off his back, set her on a nearby chair harshly and looked her straight in the eye. "NEVER bite a Saiyan."_

He steadied himself with the wall of the shower, staring at the scab like it was a flesh-eating virus. 'That CAN'T be right. She doesn't know our customs. Besides, she's mating with that earthling bastard.' Vegeta tried to ignore the mark, but an odd feeling still nagged him as he finished his shower.

When he came out of the bathroom, he saw an outfit neatly spread out on his bed: black dress slacks and a red polo shirt with a solitary stripe of green around the edge of the collar. Her scent hung over it like a heavy fog. Reluctantly, Vegeta donned the outfit and headed toward the living room.

* * *

Some unexplainable force stopped him when he saw her. She was reclined slightly on the couch, most of her hair pinned up except for a single lock, which curled around her chin. Her simple dress was a snowy white, fitting her snugly. She had painted her lips a cherry red, but it was her eyes…her eyes were absolutely dazzling.

She saw Vegeta before he had a chance to recover. "It's about time you showed up," she said, but not angrily. She gracefully strode over to him and fixed his collar. She then said in a softer voice, "You look nice, Vegeta." He just nodded.

Bunny walked in carrying a tray of food and squeaked with delight. "Ooh, you two are under the mistletoe!" She giggled and set the tray down. Vegeta stared at her, not knowing what to think, but Bulma's face reddened. "You have to kiss now!" She giggled again and left to get some more food.

Bulma couldn't even look Vegeta in the eye. "It's a stupid tradition. You don't have to—" Vegeta wordlessly lifted her chin and kissed her.

Bulma's disbelief wore away and she kissed him back, running her palms up his chest, savoring every inch, every moment. The kiss deepened as his hand slid down to the small of her back, pulling her closer. They eventually broke free, panting but still remaining close, their bodies huddled together to ward off the sudden chill they felt. Vegeta's eyes came to rest on the simple ring on her left hand—

"Sorry to interrupt you two." Bulma pushed Vegeta away as they both whirled to see who had walked in. Goku stood in the entrance, grinning stupidly and holding a turkey.

"Kakarott, if you even DARE—"

"Goku, don't you breathe a WORD—"

"Don't worry," he said reassuringly, setting the turkey next to the other dishes, "your secret's safe with me." There was an awkward silence as Goku's smile widened.

"Good," Bulma and Vegeta said in unison, before starting to leave. Goku grabbed the older Saiyan's sleeve as he was passing by.

"Vegeta, you've got some lipstick on your mouth." The Prince wiped it off and nodded at Goku before exiting. The young Saiyan surveyed the room before allowing himself a little victory dance. 'Yes! Santa's even better than the Dragonballs!'

* * *

Aww! Goku is so sweet! And I don't know about you guys, but I was cracking up when Goku was smiling and everything. It just seemed so…Goku-like. I don't know, maybe I need some sleep or something.

Please comment!


	11. The Party

If you didn't read the last chapter, I suggest you do. If you did read the last chapter, I suggest you read it again. It's one of my favorites!

* * *

Christmas Eve dinner was a grand tradition at the Briefs' household. The entire 'Z' gang got together, and new additions were added all the time. Gohan was born and started attending, Piccolo started coming, and now Vegeta.

'Vegeta….' Even though Bulma was wrapped up in another man's arms, she couldn't stop thinking about the Saiyan Prince. 'What happened? That kiss wasn't like any of the kisses that Yamcha and I have had. Could I really…," she let her mind trail off, not allowing herself to admit the newfound and unwelcome feelings.

"Bulma, are you alright?" Yamcha frowned down at her pensive countenance and she returned his gaze.

"Of course I am." She unwillingly smiled up at him, and he bought it.

"So," he began, lowering his voice, "when should we announce it?"

"I was thinking after dinner." She watched Yamcha take a slug of beer before placing the empty bottle on the table next to a few others. "How many was that?"

"Don't worry, I can handle it," Yamcha replied carelessly. Bulma was about to argue, but bit her tongue. Why argue; they were going to be happily married in a couple of months.

Vegeta stood on the other side of the room, leaning against the wall in his usual manner. Well, almost usual. If it was usual, he wouldn't have been staring at the blue-haired woman across the room. But he was.

'What is it about her that's so…mesmerizing? She's so weak, so fragile, so stubborn, so….' He stopped when he caught another whiff of her fragrance, which left him dazed.

No one really noticed how oddly the pair was behaving, except for two other party-goers.

"Hah! This is so exciting! Did I tell you they kissed?" Goku whispered to the Namekian standing beside him. Piccolo only responded with an eye roll.

"Thirteen times, now fourteen. And why do you have to meddle in their relationship?"

Goku looked at him, hurt. "Because it's fun."

Piccolo was about to respond when Bunny came in and announced dinner was ready.

* * *

There was a feast waiting for everyone in the dining room. Two gigantic turkeys, both made by Chichi, were placed on either side. There was green bean casserole, chestnut stuffing, cranberry sauce, vegetable soup, sweet potatoes, mashed potatoes, gravy, bread and butter, and anything else Bunny felt like making. It smelled divine.

"Yo, Yamcha, come sit by me!" Krillen shouted as he sat down. Yamcha agreed and dragged Bulma with him, seating her by his side. Coincidentally, Goku forced Vegeta to sit next to him, causing Vegeta and Bulma to be across from each other.

'Hee hee!' Goku giggled to himself, watching them eagerly for any sign of affection. 'This is great!'

Bulma's and Vegeta's eyes met and Goku held his breath, waiting for them to fly across the table into each other's arms. But it never happened. Bulma blushed furiously and looked away, while the Prince averted his eyes to his plate. Goku was crushed. 'Wait—'

But his thoughts were interrupted when Dr. Briefs stood up and clapped his hands for silence. "As you all know," he began, "this has been an eventful year. Goku came back from outer space!"

Everyone cheered as the young Saiyan blushed, and rubbed the back of his head bashfully.

"Also, it seems we have a new member to add to our gang. Vegeta!"

Polite claps followed, but a loud 'me-YOW!' could be heard from the end of the table that Mrs. Briefs was sitting at. Everyone laughed, except for Vegeta. His cheeks reddened and he looked down at his plate. 'Idiotic housewife….'

"Finally, we learned some disturbing news from a mysterious youth that visited us from the future."

At the mention of the odd visit, everyone became silent.

"He told us of the inevitable events that have yet to come. We can only pray for strength and for the boy who risked his future to save ours."

The gang bent their heads down to wish for the boy's wellbeing as well as their own. A moment passed in silence, then, simultaneously, the group began talking happily as Mr. Briefs began carving one of the turkeys.

The meal had begun.

"Yamcha, could you pass me the potatoes?" Yamcha ignored his fiancée. Apparently what Krillen had to say was much more interesting. "Yamcha?"

Goku noticed the opportunity, grabbed the potatoes and passed them to Vegeta so he could give them to Bulma.

"Here," Vegeta said gruffly, handing her the bowl. She murmured 'thanks' and started piling some on her plate, saddened by the fact that Yamcha had snubbed her, but not nearly as much since Vegeta had—

'Arg! Why can't I get him out of my head?' She picked at the food on her plate as Yamcha knocked back a few more beers. He and Krillen were arguing about which football teams held more promise. His back was turned completely on his fiancée.

Vegeta's eyes shifted between the two curiously. 'That moron doesn't know what he's got—' but the Saiyan was shocked when his eyes met Bulma's.

This time, instead of turning away, the pair forgot themselves. Where they were, who they were, it didn't matter. Blue and black, day and night: one full of color, vivacity, bliss, the other with mystery, persistence, passion. Both delved deeper into each other's eyes, searching for a hint of mutual feelings, trying to find some satisfaction within the ephemeral glance. Opposites, yet one and the same…somehow.

"Bulma!" She snapped out of her trance and turned around to face Yamcha. Vegeta returned to his plate, hoping no one noticed, although Goku was choking on turkey for some reason.

"I'm sorry, Yamcha. I was thinking again…." He laughed, oblivious to what her thoughts were actually about.

"That's my girl!" He slapped her on the back, then a blank look covered his face. "I was going to say something, but I forgot what it was." He shrugged and returned to his conversation with Krillen.

Bulma glared at him and excused herself from the table, marching upstairs. Yamcha didn't notice, but Goku and Vegeta did.

"Hey, Vegeta," Goku started, his mind racing to find an excuse for his friend. "Do you still have that pen that I lent you?"

Vegeta looked at him quizzically. "Did you eat some pills you found on the floor again?"

"You know, the PEN." Goku nudged the Prince in the side and tried to motion inconspicuously to Bulma's empty seat. "Could you get that from your ROOM? UPSTAIRS?" Vegeta's eyes widened, then narrowed.

"Right." Vegeta threw in a couple of insults to make it look more believable before he headed up the stairs.

Bulma's mom, situated at the head of the table, saw both her daughter and Vegeta leave. 'Curious,' she mused. Yamcha also excused himself and stumbled up the stairs. 'Very curious.'

* * *

Oh my God! What's going on upstairs? Did Goku really lend Vegeta a pen? What's Bulma looking for? And why did Yamcha leave? Did he hear about an orgy? I guess you'll just have to wait until next time….

By the way, I have a really random question: What's that form that Saiyans turn into when they see the light of the full moon? Is it the Ozuroo state? Please tell me!


	12. The Decision

Chapter twelve, baby, woo! Okay, this chapter has a little, uh, _adult situations_, but not to worry because I'm not very graphic with my descriptions; I find it quite disgusting and I wouldn't know anything about it. I don't want to ruin the surprise, but let me just put it this way: it's not between Bulma and Vegeta.

I don't own them, but I did once for about three minutes, and let me tell you, it's great!

* * *

Bulma was wandering the hallways aimlessly, waiting for him to come. The problem was she still hadn't decided which 'him'. That was the pressing question as she walked forlornly past the numerous empty rooms. 

A hand grabbed hers and pulled her into a room. The door closed silently behind her. "Vegeta?" she said impulsively. She then quickly reprimanded herself; he would never do something like this.

The laugh that answered, it was the laugh of a drunk. "Sheesh, Bulma, I would think you would know your own fiancé, Bulma." She audibly gulped.

"What are you doing, Yamcha?" she asked, hoping it sounded casual. Unfortunately, something was telling her to get out of there. Fast.

"Well, I was hoping to do YOU, Bulma." She laughed nervously, but he didn't laugh with her. He reached out and touched her suggestively.

"Yamcha, stop, not until we're married." There was no response as he roughly kissed her, groping her body hungrily. She whimpered. "Don't Yamcha. Please."

"Come on," he teased as he pawed at her dress. "We're ALMOST married." He laughed as he slowly unzipped her dress.

"No. No!" Bulma moaned. "Let me go!" She started to fight back, but he managed to hold her down. In a final attempt to escape, she screamed. Only a little of it leaked out, though, before his hand covered her mouth.

"Shh, you don't want everyone to see you, do you?" He continued to violate her as she cried silently, praying for someone to come.

Someone did.

Vegeta did.

He had been debating whether to meet her or not when he heard the muffled shriek. Alarmed, he tried to sense her ki as he ran down the hallways. He found the door and kicked it in. Yamcha was on top of her, his pants around his ankles, while Bulma was struggling violently against his grip.

Vegeta acted quickly. Before Yamcha's sluggish reactions took over, the Prince had already kicked him away and lifted Bulma into his arms. She held onto him like a lifeline, trying to get as far away from Yamcha as possible. Her fiancé was cowering in a corner, vainly attempting to recover from the blows.

"Don't touch her," Vegeta seethed, his eyes glinting turquoise. Yamcha just groaned and rolled over, throwing up on the floor. Goku magically materialized next to the Prince.

"I heard the commotion. What happened here?"

"This earthling asshole just tried to…take advantage of her."

Bulma was crying into Vegeta's shirt as the Prince glared in contempt at the figure on the ground. The seriousness of the situation had an effect on Goku as well. His glare matched Vegeta's in intensity, making the atmosphere in the room darken further.

Goku nodded showing he understood. "What now?"

Vegeta glanced at the woman huddled against his chest. She had already reached a decision. Bulma wiggled the gold band off her left finger and tossed it on the floor.

Goku's eyebrow cocked at the sight. "Bulma, you're engaged?"

Seeing as how she wasn't in the proper condition to answer, Vegeta had the honors. "I guess not anymore," he said coolly. "Take care of the jackass." He spit on the floor in the direction of the groaning Yamcha. "Some people have no honor," he muttered before leaving the room.

Goku silently agreed. He picked up the engagement ring gingerly and glided over to Yamcha. "That wasn't a very smart thing to do," he said softly, but the malice in his voice poisoned the air. Yamcha didn't reply; he had passed out from too much alcohol.

After bringing his friend back home, Goku returned to the party. Everyone was worried about Bulma's absence, so Goku said she didn't feel well, so she went to bed early. When asked about Yamcha, Goku said that he had to return something.

'Like a ring,' he thought soberly.

Only Bunny seemed to notice Vegeta's absence, but she didn't question it. She merely smiled to herself.

In the meantime, Vegeta was carrying Bulma straight up the hallway to her room. Since she was still in shock from the incident, he modestly helped her change into her nightgown before leading her to bed. She still clutched his arm, begging him with her eyes to stay.

"Idiot," he chided softly, "did you think I would leave you alone?" He brushed some stray blue strands aside. "Now go to sleep."

She clutched his hand, savoring the warmth she felt trickle into her body. "Vegeta," she whispered, "promise you won't leave me alone when I fall asleep. Promise."

He smirked at her. "How can I leave when you've got my hand?" She puzzled over his remark until she noticed her grip on one of his hands.

Blushing, she released it. "Sorry."

"Don't be." He searched for a chair, but to no avail. Sighing to himself, he started to settle on the floor.

"Vegeta?"

"What now?"

"You don't have to sleep on the floor."

"What am I supposed to do, sleep standing up?"

"I can scoot over for you." Whatever he had been expecting, that wasn't it. He just stared at her with his normal frown. She took it as a yes, inching over so he could fit on the bed. Vegeta paused.

"Are you sure?"

She looked up at him again. Her fear seemed to leak into his heart. Without another word, Vegeta laid next to her, trying to stay as far away as possible. "Just go to sleep," he mumbled. Now that he was there, she could.

As she dozed, Vegeta watched her. For some reason, everything about her fascinated him. The way her chest rose and fell as she breathed steadily, the way the moon made her hair look like an ocean's waves, the way her lips slightly parted when she was dreaming.

No. Not dreaming. It was a nightmare. Her perfect face darkened, her beautiful blue eyes leaked tears, her fragile frame thrashed about. Vegeta didn't know what to do.

Bulma finally willed herself awake. "Vegeta," she moaned, hoping he was still there.

"What's wrong?" She didn't answer him; instead, she crawled over to the source of his voice and collapsed on him, sobbing.

"Don't leave. Don't go." The tears moistened his shirt as he instinctively held her close. "Don't let him hurt me."

In the darkness, Bulma couldn't see Vegeta's eyes harden. "If he tries to hurt you again, he'll have to deal with me. I promise."

* * *

Can you tell I don't like Yamcha? Heh, I guess rape was a little much, but he always annoyed me with his stupid wolf fang fist. Grr…don't even get me started. 

Vegeta watching her sleep. Aww... I actually got that from a quote I read. It says, "You know it is love when you cannot fall asleep because reality is better than your dreams." Isn't that just the sweetest thing!

And I know Vegeta was out of character, but he's so cute that way! And as tin797 wrote, "…the fact that they have children together is totally out of character…" and I couldn't agree more.

Comments? Questions? Homework problems? E-mail me!


	13. The Exchange

I'm sorry about the delay. Normally, I would have had it posted on Tuesday, but I had the rough draft of a paper due in myEnglish class and it took ALL NIGHT. It won't happen again, though, I promise.

Special thanks to TrunksGurl09 for the last part of this chapter. And just so you know, this is Christmas morning, so Bulma isn't freaked out anymore by the Yamcha incident.

I don't own them blah, blah, blah, okay, let's go!

* * *

"Morning, Princy."

The Saiyan started in his sleep, trying to figure out why she was in his room. "What?" he asked, glaring at the sniggering blue-haired woman perched next to him.

"Merry Christmas! That's what."

In one fluid motion, she bounced off her bed and was gone. The Prince snorted and rolled out of bed.

He bathed and dressed quickly, not wanting to miss the breakfast that he could smell being prepared. Before he went downstairs, he rooted out the three gifts that he had gotten. They were crudely wrapped in newspaper, the way Vegeta had seen it done on television once. He balanced them awkwardly in his arms as he descended the stairs.

"Good morning, Vegeta!" Bunny called as she scrambled some eggs. "Merry Christmas!" It was then she noticed the packages in his arms. "Oh, you darling! You didn't have to get us anything!" Bulma's mom turned to her husband. "Honey, could you take Vegeta's presents into the other room?"

Dr. Briefs looked over the top of his newspaper. "My dear boy, you didn't need to do that! Here, allow me." He stumbled over to Vegeta and relieved him of the three presents. "I'll go put these under the tree with the others."

"Thanks, honey!" Bunny called out after her husband left. Vegeta took a seat at the kitchen table when Bulma strode in.

"Merry Christmas, Mom," she said as she kissed her mother on the cheek.

"Merry Christmas, dear. Breakfast is almost done, so go keep Vegeta company while I finish up."

"Morning, Vegeta." He grumbled something back and she giggled.

"Merry Christmas to you, too."

* * *

"Why are there socks hanging over the fireplace?"

"My God, Vegeta, do you live in a cave or something? Oh no, wait, you live in the TRAINING room."

"Ha, ha, ha, very amusing. Now answer the question." The group had just finished breakfast, and while Bunny and Dr. Briefs were cleaning up, Vegeta and Bulma went to the living room so they could pull down the socks.

"The stockings are filled with little presents for us. This one's yours." She handed him a green one, which was about a foot long and stretched out to accommodate all of the trinkets inside. Vegeta eyed his suspiciously as Bulma pulled hers down.

"Does…Santa fill the stockings?"

"Santa?" she asked, a hint of laughter in her voice. "Santa doesn't exist, who—"

"DAMMIT, Kakarott!"

Now Bulma was really laughing. "You mean, all this time you thought Santa brought the presents?"

Vegeta was getting irritated. "Well, what was I supposed to think? No one told me otherwise!"

"Okay, okay, calm down!"

"I AM calm!"

"Just don't bring it up again, okay?"

"Fine." They simultaneously sat on the couch in a huff, waiting for Bunny and Dr. Briefs to come in. The tension was so strong, it was visible in the air, hovering around them threateningly. Occasionally, Bulma tried to look at him, but each time, her eyes met his, they would both start and turn away. Finally, Bulma broke the silence.

"So—"

"Are you two ready to open presents?" Bunny sang as she bounded into the room. Both Bulma and Vegeta whirled around guiltily. Unaware of the friction—or, at least, pretending to be—Bulma's mom pulled her stocking down and sat on a nearby recliner. Dr. Briefs hurried in and followed his wife's example. "Come on! Let's see what we got!"

All four of them dumped out their stockings, revealing a plethora of candy and capsules. They all spent some length of time admiring the contents. After that, they wandered to the greenhouse, where the Christmas tree was.

The Saiyan Prince had never seen the Christmas tree before; he never walked through the greenhouse. Now, he gazed up at the towering pine, easily three stories high, wrapped in white lights, ornaments and tinsel. A glistening star rested on top. Dwarfed by the size of the tree, twelve presents sat under its boughs.

"Vegeta!" Bunny sang. "Seeing as how you're our guest, you should open your presents first." She handed him a dark green box with a red bow on top. "This one is from me!" Slowly, he tore the paper off of the box and opened it. Vegeta parted the tissue paper and held up…

A pair of black leather pants.

Immediately, Bunny began to blush and giggle wildly while Bulma sighed and massaged the bridge of her nose in embarrassment.

Next, Dr. Briefs handed Vegeta a capsule. "In there is another training room. Now you can train up to five-hundred times gravity and the metal is Saiyan-proof, so it won't break as often." Vegeta smirked as he pocketed the capsule, and Dr. Briefs knew enough to be satisfied with that reaction.

Bulma then slyly slipped him a package tightly wrapped with green ribbon. He broke the seal and gingerly unfolded the paper. Inside was a blue training suit. He pulled it out and looked at it with mild interest. "It's a new material," she began, "a special blend I made myself. It's a lot more durable than the other clothes that you've been using." He nodded and carefully replaced the suit. "Do you like it?"

He hesitated, then replied with a low, "Yes." Bulma smiled at him slowly.

Vegeta put his presents next to him and then pulled the gifts he had bought out from under the Christmas tree. The one on the very top of the pile had a tag that read, "To Slave, From Prince Vegeta XIV." He handed this package to Bunny.

"Ooh! Thank you Vegeta!" She eagerly ripped the newspaper apart and triumphantly held up her present. "Oven mitts! How did you know I needed new ones?" He didn't reply; he smirked.

The package that read, "To Nerd, From The Prince of All Saiyans," went to Dr. Briefs. He uttered an exclamation of surprise when he unwrapped a brand new Saiyan scouter. "Where did you get this?" he asked.

"I had it on Namek, but I taught myself how to sense ki, so I never used it." Dr. Briefs didn't hear him; he was too busy pressing random buttons to see what happened.

That left the last package. It was lumpy and awkwardly wrapped, with a piece of twine holding it together. The tag on it said simply, "Woman." He handed it roughly to Bulma, avoiding her playful gaze as she started to unwrap it. Her 'playful gaze' turned into a look of complete surprise when she held up her present: a beautiful red gown.

"Oh my—Vegeta, this is beautiful!" She held the dress up against her body and admired the color against her skin, the cut of the fabric, the small amount of sequins strategically placed to reflect the color of her hair every which way.

Bunny was examining it with her. "Wow, your favorite color. And SO nice…." Bulma didn't hear, though, she was too busy examining the dress on herself, imagining what it would look like on.

"Are you pleased?" Vegeta asked her coolly, but was caught off-guard when she looked up with tears glittering in her eyes. She didn't reply; she flung her arms around his neck.

"I love it," she whispered into his ear. It took her awhile to realize where she was: in the same room as her parents. She pulled herself off of Vegeta, sniveling but smiling nonetheless. "Thank you, Vegeta."

* * *

A red dress? That Vegeta sure is one smooth devil. And I heard recently that Bunny said to Bulma once in the TV show, "Back in my day, anyone who showed that much commitment to anything was definitely marriage material." She's so funny (and right)!

Please review, I can never get enough of them.


	14. The Evasion

Sorry this chapter is up so late. I wanted to put it up at noon because I had to take the PSAT at school, but right as I got home, I was invited to go out to lunch with my mom, my dad, my sister, my uncles, my aunts, my cousins and my grandmother, and I didn't get home until later. To top it all off, this chapter is a little short, too. Sorry!

Insert standard disclaimer here.

* * *

After that Christmas, things had returned to normal. Dr. Briefs was working on a way to short-out machines with a bomb, in case the androids came for them. Bunny baked various goods for her guest—using the new oven mitts, of course—while Vegeta threw himself back into training.

Bulma was the only person who seemed to be having problems. She had broken her engagement off, and even though she knew it was for the best, she was still terribly lonely. She was also troubled by Vegeta.

The perfect opportunity to end her confusion presented itself two days after Christmas. Both of her parents had gone on a business trip. Vegeta was sitting right in front of her, eating lunch. He had been training, so he was decked out in the shorts Bulma had given him, his bare chest glistening with sweat…. Bulma had a difficult time shaking off the vulgar thoughts in her mind, but she managed.

"Vegeta?"

"What?"

"Do you remember…what happened under the mistletoe?"

"No, what happened?" he asked sarcastically.

She frowned at him. "Come on. You KNOW what I mean."

"Well, what about it?"

The words that she had thought of became paste in her mouth, preventing her from saying anything right.

"I, uh, was just thinking: why did you…do that?"

"You said it was tradition, and traditions are made to be kept."

She snorted. "It's tradition to be nice to your hostess, but that doesn't seem to faze you."

"What's your point?"

"The POINT is—" Bulma sighed. "I just wanted to know if that was…real." Having finished his meal, Vegeta rose.

"Whatever. I'm going to train." He turned to leave, but felt a hand on his arm. Bulma pulled on him so he faced her.

"Was it?" she whispered. Vegeta didn't respond; he couldn't. He didn't know, either. Somehow, his eyes relayed this information to her.

Neither one of them knew what had happened.

But Bulma realized that she wouldn't be at rest until she figured it out. Her hand found its way up the curve of his neck to his cheek. She hesitated, then leaned in and gently pressed her lips to his.

Vegeta didn't respond. Bulma could taste his doubt, his fear—wait, fear? Was he actually scared of her, of this closeness? She broke away slowly and tried to examine his eyes. Their usual coldness had melted away, and she found herself looking into his soul. What she saw surprised her.

Never had she seen such passion. So many feelings that had been packed away were now pouring out into—they refroze. He pushed her away, demanding scornfully, "Don't touch me like that."

Curious about this new discovery, Bulma decided to press him. "Or what?" she asked alluringly. Vegeta stiffened visibly as she approached him and nuzzled his neck.

"You don't know what you're dealing with," he said sharply, but his words lacked the normal sting.

"I think I do," she murmured.

Her breath felt cool on his neck, causing him to shiver slightly. His hair stood on end, he could feel it, and his heart started to pound. 'What's she doing to me?' He gulped, trying to rid himself of the sudden dryness in his throat. He finally managed a smirk.

"No, you don't." Sweeping her into his arms, he kissed her mouth as he started up the stairs. Their feelings exploded into that single touch. When he broke away, Bulma was too dazed to notice where she was. She reached up for more—

The Prince dropped her into the tub and turned on the shower. "This should cool you down a bit."

"VEGETA! I'll GET you for this!" He flinched when she screeched at him, but laughed at her just the same.

"I'm going to train now."

After the incident with the shower, Bulma decided that the Saiyan Prince wasn't harboring feelings for her. 'He had just gotten caught up in the moment,' she assured herself over and over.

But if that was true, then why did she catch him staring at her sometimes?

Instead of feeling better, Bulma was only more confused. And what made it worse was when she caught herself staring at him. This just plain scared her. Sure, he was attractive, smart, sexy—wait, sexy? What had gotten into her lately?

So she started avoiding him. Every time he was eating lunch, she'd be working in her lab. The only time Bulma left the house is when she heard the Gravity Room turn on. She noticed that Vegeta didn't ask her to fix the room anymore or demand a meal at six in the morning. He must be avoiding her, too.

Of course, it's hard to avoid someone if he lives in the same house. The next time they saw each other was on New Year's Eve.

* * *

Dun dun dun…the final chapter is coming. Are Bulma and Vegeta gonna get together? If you don't know the answer to that question, I'm ashamed and embarrassed for you. Turn off your PC and walk away.

Please review! Thanks so much!


	15. The Truth

This chapter was an afterthought. I realized when I was writing the last one that there was a big plot hole. This is a shorter chapter meant to fill in this hole. I hope it works….

* * *

"Bulma, I'm sorry." Tears ran down his cheeks as he continued, "I didn't mean for it to go that far. I'm—" his voice cracked and softened, "—ashamed of myself." He swallowed. "Please forgive me."

Bulma was huddled on the opposite side of the room, listening to Yamcha's pleas solemnly. "I forgive you," she said lowly. "I just don't think things will ever be the same between us." She paused meaningfully. "Can we just be friends?"

Nodding, he replied, "I guess it's for the better." A silence followed, and the two seemed to reach the same conclusion.

They had never really been in love at all.

Finally, Bulma rose. "I'll see you tomorrow, then."

"At the party, right. I'll be there." Yamcha rose as well. They stared at each other for a split second, and then awkwardly embraced. It wasn't like the embraces they had shared before; this was a hug between two old friends.

"Bye, Yamcha."

"Good-bye."

Yamcha smiled weakly and left. Bulma watched him go before turning into the kitchen. Grabbing an apple, Bulma took a bite and turned around. She suddenly shrunk back.

Vegeta was sitting at the table, looking slightly ill-at-ease.

"How much did you hear?" she asked directly.

"Not much," he admitted, "just the good-bye. Why was he here?"

Bulma gaped at Vegeta openly. 'Since when has he actually cared?' Vegeta repeated his question, his eyes turning from an impartial opaqueness to the usual cold stare. Bulma managed to snap out of her trance.

"He just came to apologize for…." Bulma trailed off meaningfully and the Saiyan nodded in understanding. Again, she stared at him, taking a thoughtful bite out of her apple. 'He really does care, doesn't he?' For awhile, the two sat in an awkward silence.

"Vegeta," Bulma finally burst, "I think I—"

"Don't say it," he hissed as he stood. "I'm going to train now." Angrily, or was it fearfully, Vegeta breezed past her, brushingup against hershoulder, and she found herself holding her breath, almost in ecstasy.

She turned to catch him, but he had disappeared down the hall. Bulma didn't see him again until the New Year's Eve party.

* * *

What was Bulma going to say to Vegeta? I think you know….

Really short, right? Hard to believe, but it would have been even shorter if **TrunksGurl09** hadn't intervened. You rock! Don't worry, the last chapter will be up very soon, like Saturday, so get ready for the New Year's Eve Par-TAY!


	16. The New Year

Okay, last chapter! Yay! I just wanna say that you guys have been great readers and I enjoyed writing this story a lot. Those who actively read and reviewed (you know who you are, I probably e-mailed you if I had access to your ddress) I really appreciate it. Kisses to you!

Just to warn you, though, other stories I write will not be updated as fast, mainly because this story was pretty much finished when I started posting it on the web. In any case, I hope you enjoy the last chapter of _Something Better_.

**WARNING:** Vegeta's way out of character at the end. Has there ever been a time when he wasn't out of character and he got 'married' to Bulma?

* * *

"Bulma, go tell Vegeta that the party's starting in thirty minutes."

"Mom, can't you tell him? I'm busy." Bunny glanced at her daughter and smiled. She was applying lipstick that was the same shade as her dress. Vegeta's dress, of course.

"Bulma, dear, you know Vegeta doesn't listen to me. You have to tell him." Bulma sighed heavily and put away her make-up.

"Fine," she grumbled. Her heels clicked as she walked down the hallway. If Bulma hadn't been so preoccupied about talking to Vegeta, she would have noticed the faint smile on Bunny's lips.

* * *

BANG BANG BANG! The incessant pounding on the gravity chamber's door irked Vegeta. Only one person in the house ever banged on the door like that, and Vegeta didn't really want to see her. "Open up, you lazy bastard!" the woman screeched from the other side.

Reluctantly, he pulled it opened and inhaled sharply. Yes, she was that breathtaking, especially when she was angry.

"Why didn't you open the door when I knocked?" she burst, placing her hands on her hips. Vegeta's eyes wandered momentarily. His dress fit her so well—

The Saiyan willed his eyes back to her face. "I do not have to answer to likes of you," he said loftily.

Bulma just rolled her eyes and crossed her arms. "The party's starting in a half an hour. I suggest you get changed."

"You can't make me," he stated simply. She was a little shocked at his reply, but it soon wore away into a self-satisfied smile.

"Oh, really?" she asked, clearly amused. "Would you like me to tell everyone your little Santa story? I'm sure they'd find it very endearing."

His scowl deepened. "Fine, idiot."

"I knew you'd come to your senses," she said over her shoulder as she bounced out of the room. Just like old times, in a way. But there was something different in the way they were talking to one another, a definite change. But was it for the better?

* * *

The party was in full swing, everyone drinking and dancing and basically having a good time. 'Basically having a good time' because there were a few who clearly were not enjoying themselves.

Vegeta was one of them. He was leaning on a wall off to one side, watching the party with an air of detached superiority that one would only expect from a Prince. He told himself it was because he didn't want to be there, but the real reason was hidden deep down inside him: Bulma and Yamcha were getting along.

Which was why Goku wasn't having a good time, either.

"Why aren't Vegeta and Bulma hanging all over each other?" Goku whispered to his unwilling partner-in-crime.

Piccolo snorted at him. "Can you picture Vegeta hanging all over ANYONE?" The Saiyan looked at him sadly and Piccolo rolled his eyes. "Just leave them alone. I have a feeling that they'll work things out."

While all of this was going on, Yamcha and Bulma were having a good time talking and eating together. Now that they weren't pretending with each other, there was a genuine affection between the two.

"Bulma, would you like to dance?"

"Sure! I love this song!" The two headed to the middle of the living room to dance.

_I drive these brothers crazy,_

_I do it on the daily,_

_They treat me really nicely,_

_They buy me all these ice-ys._

_Dolce & Gabbana,_

_Fendi and then Donna—_

THWACK!

Yamcha was decked. Bulma let out a shriek and tried to help him up, but found she was being held back by a strong arm. By Vegeta.

All eyes were on the three in the middle of the room, especially on the Saiyan Prince, who had a golden aura and turquoise eyes. Bulma was too angry to notice, though. "What the hell did you DO to him?"

Vegeta didn't look up. "He was…hurting you again."

Bulma looked at him, slightly surprised, then scowled again, but not as angrily as before. "No he wasn't! We were DANCING!" She struggled against his grip, and he finally let her go. Immediately, she was at Yamcha's side. "Are you okay? Did Vegeta hurt you?"

Groggily, Yamcha shook his head. "Nah, I'm fine. Where'd that bastard go, anyway?"

Bulma looked over her shoulder and, sure enough, the Prince wasn't there. "He must have gone upstairs," she stated. Yamcha got up to get him. "No, wait!" He stopped. "Let me talk to him. He won't hurt me."

Yamcha gave her a quizzical look. "The Saiyan murderer won't hurt some earth woman?"

Bulma rolled her eyes. "He's not a murderer, he just killed people."

"Funny, I thought that was the same thing." But she was already heading up the stairs. "Wait!" Yamcha called as he started to follow her, but Bunny jumped in front of him.

"No, you don't!" she exclaimed cheerfully. "You don't want to miss the count down to New Years!" He reluctantly agreed to stay, but the party had come to a stand-still. Bunny looked them all over with a smile on her face and said, "Isn't it nice that Vegeta can transform now?" Everyone stared at her stupidly and then the attention of everyone fell on the television: there were only three minutes left until the New Year.

Elsewhere, Bulma was hurriedly running down the hallway to Vegeta's room. She had decided to tell him, especially after that little display of affection. When she reached his closed bedroom door, she pounded on it. "Vegeta, open up right now!"

Surprisingly, he did so without a complaint, and it was Bulma's turn to lose her breath. He was only wearing a pair of boxers; obviously he had just been getting ready for bed. "What do you want?"

She glared at him. "We need to talk."

"We have nothing to discuss. Leave now."

"We have PLEANTY of things to discuss." She shoved past him into his room and sat on his bed. "Close the door." He glowered at her but obeyed.

Downstairs, Bunny called over her shoulder, "One minute!"

"Vegeta, why did you hit Yamcha?"

"I vowed to protect you," he growled, as if angry at himself. "Saiyans cannot break vows."

"He wasn't hurting me. Why did you hit him?"

"I thought he was."

"No you didn't! Why did you hit him!"

Vegeta suddenly exploded. "I don't know!" He stared at her, fuming, but she only smiled.

"Thirty seconds!"

"I know why," she said quietly, standing up and gliding over to him. "You like me."

Vegeta's eyes flew open. "What do you mean?"

"You know exactly what I mean, Prince," she breathed. Vegeta could feel his hair prickle.

"Well, you're wrong."

"Am I?" She inched closer to his bare chest and he started to inch backwards.

"Fifteen seconds!"

"You are," he managed to say unconvincingly. He was now pressed against the wall. Vegeta audibly gulped when he felt her body press against his. It wasn't her touch that frightened him; it was what he felt when she touched him that did it. If she only could understand….

"You know what?" she asked playfully.

"Ten!"

"I love you."

"Nine!"

Vegeta gaped at her.

"Eight!"

"Do you love me?"

"Seven!"

No reply.

"Six!"

"Well?"

"Five!"

"I…."

"Four!"

"I'm waiting!"

"Three!"

Another pause. Bulma was visibly frustrated.

"Two!"

"Bite me, prick!"

"One!"

"OW!"

"Happy New Year!"

Bulma was too shocked to hear everyone celebrating downstairs. She was nursing the newly acquired wound on her neck. "You BIT me! What the hell was that for?"

Vegeta smirked at her, but it wasn't from amusement. It was from affection. "You're the one who told me to."

"Well, I didn't mean it LITERALLY."

"Didn't you say you…loved me?"

"Yes, but—"

"So you're mine now."

"Huh?"

"You're mine now. Don't you remember when you bit me?" He showed her the scar on his shoulder. "And now you'll have one." Vegeta's fingers grazed her wound gently.

"What does that have to do with anything?" Her voice was becoming softer as he fingered the bite mark; his caress was mesmerizing her.

"Well," he began, moving closer, "on Vegeta-sei we would have been bonded. I guess you could say we're married." At an attempt to be surprised and appalled by Vegeta's sudden tenderness, she choked, "M-married? Wait a minute, I'm not—"

He cut her off with a kiss. She immediately responded and they fell into each other.

Sighing contentedly, Goku backed away from the staircase and gave a small thumbs up to Piccolo, who shook his head and muttered something unintelligible.

Bunny bumped into Goku. "Oh, Happy New Year, dear. Have you seen Bulma anywhere?"

Goku's eyes widened. "I…uh…don't—"

"Is she with Vegeta?" Mrs. Briefs asked matter-of-factly. Finding there was nothing else to say, Goku nodded and she smiled at him. "It's about time those two got together."

She walked away humming and the young Saiyan warrior stared at her back in disbelief. 'Sometimes I wonder if Bulma got her brains from her father….' Without giving it another thought, Goku joined the party to welcome the New Year.

* * *

Mrs. Briefs is my hero! She kept Yamcha at bay so Vegeta and Bulma could get together. She's so cool!

So that's the end. It might seem a bit abrupt, but, hey, I believe when they got together, it was really fast. If it took a long time, Vegeta would have a lot more self-control. Besides, it's really late at night. And don't let Vegeta's OOCness bother you. If I recall correctly, he CRIED on Namek. The man is completely unpredictable.

The next BV fic I have for you is _The Mechanic's Daughter_, and I will post a teaser to the story that will follow called _Little Secret_. Expect the new stuff to be up on Monday. I hope you like them!

Sincerely, Star0307


	17. The Epilogue

"Isn't he wonderful!" Bulma exclaimed as she held her child out for her friends to examine. The infant gurgled with contentedness as he was scrutinized by his mother's best friends.

"He's going to be very handsome," Chichi agreed as she tickled his cheek.

Beside her, Goku was giving him an Eskimo (AN or Inut, if you want to be politically correct) kiss. "Look at you, Trunks!" he exclaimed childishly.

Bulma shot him a weird look. "How did you know his name?"

Immediately, Goku leapt back against the wall as Trunks laughed in appreciation. "I…uh…Vegeta…um…gotta go!" He instant transmittioned outta there, ignoring the shrieks of protest coming from his wife and friend. When he reappeared, he was knocked over by a training Saiyan Prince.

"Kakarott! Where the hell did you come from?"

Goku scratched the back of his head and grinned stupidly. "I guess when I said your name, I thought of you when I did the instant transmittion," he replied sheepishly. "I was trying to go home."

Suddenly, Bulma and Chichi, with infant Trunks in tow, burst into the training room. "Goku," the blue-haired woman exclaimed, "you've got a helluva-lotta explaining to do!"

Goku sighed. This was going to be a long day….

* * *

I know, not much of an epilogue, right? Well, that's because I'm making a sequal to this story. Well, kind of. What I did is I went through the entire story and re-wrote it through the eyes of Piccolo and Goku instead of Bulma and Vegeta. To what extent did Piccolo and Goku go to? I think you're in for a surprise….

Read _Partners-in-Crime_ to find out! I hope to see you there!


End file.
